Sunday, October 30, 2005
Prestbury is back.
I don't know where he went, but if I was his mother, I'd lock him in his room.
is it time for a nap yet? i think so
is it time for a nap yet? i think so
Thursday, October 20, 2005
Experiment rat fails to co-operate with scientists; eludes capture; undertakes marathon swim to freedom.
I was hoping the story of such an heroic rat would have had a happier ending. Like being given a name ('Thorpe the Rat'?) and being allowed to live in the gardens of the university where the scientists do their research.
But no.
After being on the run for 18 weeks, it was eventually killed in a trap baited with penguin meat.
I don't know whether to more indignant at the fate of the rat or the penguin.
is it time for a nap yet? i think so
But no.
After being on the run for 18 weeks, it was eventually killed in a trap baited with penguin meat.
I don't know whether to more indignant at the fate of the rat or the penguin.
is it time for a nap yet? i think so
Wednesday, October 19, 2005
Ever wonder why people aren't commenting any more?
It's because there are way too many blogs.
In fact, there are now 19.6 million weblogs, which is double that of five months ago and thirty times that of three years ago. And there is a new blog created every second.
Imagine if you were really compulsive about reading blogs and you tried to comment on every blog in the world.
Of course, alert readers will already have realised that I predicted all of this way back on November 26, 2003.
In fact, look carefully and you will see that that post was my VERY FIRST.
Complete with a spelling error.
is it time for a nap yet? i think so
In fact, there are now 19.6 million weblogs, which is double that of five months ago and thirty times that of three years ago. And there is a new blog created every second.
Imagine if you were really compulsive about reading blogs and you tried to comment on every blog in the world.
Of course, alert readers will already have realised that I predicted all of this way back on November 26, 2003.
In fact, look carefully and you will see that that post was my VERY FIRST.
Complete with a spelling error.
is it time for a nap yet? i think so
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
Is there anything as annoying as ...
.... a faulty mouse? Trying to drag the cursor is like cleaning up a mudslide with a feather duster.
is it time for a nap yet? i think so
is it time for a nap yet? i think so
Monday, October 17, 2005
The stupidest word in the English language.
Thursday, October 13, 2005
Radio Days.
There are no announcers any more, only unfunny, smarmy 'comedians' power-laughing to each other after yet another stupid gag.
There is no interesting music any more, only Nickelback and Jack Johnson.
There is no variety any more, every station has its own repetitive playlist.
Even when I turn in desperation to supposed 'golden oldies' stations, they play the songs I DIDN'T EVEN WANT TO HEAR IN 1976 LET ALONE TODAY.
Someone should destroy the master tapes of Billy Joel, Elton John, Rod Stewart, Phil Collins, Fleetwood Mac, Queen and everyone from the eighties (that's not the name of a band, I MEAN everyone from the eighties) so that I don't have to listen to Bohemian Rhapsody, In the Air Tonight, Tonight's the Night, Rhiannon, Rocketman, Piano Man and several thousand other truly horrible songs every day for the rest of my life.
Then I turn to the classical stations and even they talk too much. No, I DON'T want to know the entire plot of the opera or the life story of the composer or the CV of the soprano or the conductor.
Just play the bloody record. And shut up.
is it time for a nap yet? i think so
There is no interesting music any more, only Nickelback and Jack Johnson.
There is no variety any more, every station has its own repetitive playlist.
Even when I turn in desperation to supposed 'golden oldies' stations, they play the songs I DIDN'T EVEN WANT TO HEAR IN 1976 LET ALONE TODAY.
Someone should destroy the master tapes of Billy Joel, Elton John, Rod Stewart, Phil Collins, Fleetwood Mac, Queen and everyone from the eighties (that's not the name of a band, I MEAN everyone from the eighties) so that I don't have to listen to Bohemian Rhapsody, In the Air Tonight, Tonight's the Night, Rhiannon, Rocketman, Piano Man and several thousand other truly horrible songs every day for the rest of my life.
Then I turn to the classical stations and even they talk too much. No, I DON'T want to know the entire plot of the opera or the life story of the composer or the CV of the soprano or the conductor.
Just play the bloody record. And shut up.
is it time for a nap yet? i think so
Monday, October 10, 2005
Over-gardening.
Ian T. reports in comments (previous post) being stuck between a party house and overgardeners.
I know about the overgardeners - there are several in my street. It seems to be a competition. They have diosma clipped into shapes like chairs, miniature windmills that whir in the wind and painted concrete sculptures of cute doe-eyed animals on the garden beds, which are all covered in either white pebbles or lurid red/tan woodchips (the colour is fake). Everything is clipped and the lawn is too perfect. It's all dinky and there are no trees. Just features, features, features.
That's suburban bad taste.
Then there's inner urban bad taste, which is possibly worse. Geometric concrete blocks laid out like chequerboards. In between, little tufts of grass. Or river pebbles. Water features. What is it with water features? These gardens end up looking one part japanese, one part tuscan and one part moonscape.
Nobody reads garden design books any more, they just watch garden makeover shows on television.
Where are you, Edna Walling and Ellis Stones?
(Mind you, I'd probably prefer an overgardener as a neighbour to a party house, in which the gardens are usually decorated with empty bourbon and cola cans.)
is it time for a nap yet? i think so
I know about the overgardeners - there are several in my street. It seems to be a competition. They have diosma clipped into shapes like chairs, miniature windmills that whir in the wind and painted concrete sculptures of cute doe-eyed animals on the garden beds, which are all covered in either white pebbles or lurid red/tan woodchips (the colour is fake). Everything is clipped and the lawn is too perfect. It's all dinky and there are no trees. Just features, features, features.
That's suburban bad taste.
Then there's inner urban bad taste, which is possibly worse. Geometric concrete blocks laid out like chequerboards. In between, little tufts of grass. Or river pebbles. Water features. What is it with water features? These gardens end up looking one part japanese, one part tuscan and one part moonscape.
Nobody reads garden design books any more, they just watch garden makeover shows on television.
Where are you, Edna Walling and Ellis Stones?
(Mind you, I'd probably prefer an overgardener as a neighbour to a party house, in which the gardens are usually decorated with empty bourbon and cola cans.)
is it time for a nap yet? i think so
Saturday, October 08, 2005
Morning, Vicar!
Thursday, October 06, 2005
Holding hands and dancing leads to WHAT?
And homosexuals and lesbians are a 'minority of perverts'?
These guys are cretins.
They just are.
Sorry, it's beyond argument. Medieval cretins. Not that medieval people were cretins, but these guys are both medieval and cretinous.
is it time for a nap yet? i think so
These guys are cretins.
They just are.
Sorry, it's beyond argument. Medieval cretins. Not that medieval people were cretins, but these guys are both medieval and cretinous.
is it time for a nap yet? i think so
Wednesday, October 05, 2005
I probably would have aimed for the amp. first, maybe the power supply.
It's probably a better idea than actually shooting the guy holding the party, but I guess it all comes down to the same thing in the end.
Interesting to see if he gets a custodial sentence.
No! I mean the shooter!
is it time for a nap yet? i think so
Interesting to see if he gets a custodial sentence.
No! I mean the shooter!
is it time for a nap yet? i think so
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
... and it's goodnight from him.
Don Adams last week, Ronnie Barker this week.
They're all going. The genuinely funny people who WERE television in the 1960s.
Comic genius, master of timing.
He wanted to be remembered as 'one of the funniest men people have seen on TV.'
Indeed he was. I know I laughed.
Is it just the mists of time playing with my memory, or was the quality of broadcasting superior in its earlier days? Does anyone really prefer today's reality TV, tawdry and insulting in its tone and subject matter? Or those panel shows that reveal the seamy side of human existence, allowing viewers to revel in a kind of vicarious open-mouthed awe at how truly dreadful life can be, if you let it?
I think I know the answer.
Get smart. Turn off your television. Even better, throw it out in the next hard rubbish collection.
is it time for a nap yet? i think so
They're all going. The genuinely funny people who WERE television in the 1960s.
Comic genius, master of timing.
He wanted to be remembered as 'one of the funniest men people have seen on TV.'
Indeed he was. I know I laughed.
Is it just the mists of time playing with my memory, or was the quality of broadcasting superior in its earlier days? Does anyone really prefer today's reality TV, tawdry and insulting in its tone and subject matter? Or those panel shows that reveal the seamy side of human existence, allowing viewers to revel in a kind of vicarious open-mouthed awe at how truly dreadful life can be, if you let it?
I think I know the answer.
Get smart. Turn off your television. Even better, throw it out in the next hard rubbish collection.
is it time for a nap yet? i think so
